One Down
by Finn Mac Cool
Summary: I'VE CHANGED THE ENDING SLIGHTLY! It's the battle against the Hetwan at Mount Olympus. Four friends from the real world enter it as soldiers. One will leave it as a martyr. PG-13 for excessive violence and swearing.


1 One Down  
  
Author's Note/ This is set during the battle of Mount Olympus in #7. As the title suggests, one of the characters dies. I encourage everyone who reads to review. Good, bad, or neutral, I like to know if people read what I've written. I suspect my choice of victim will upset many, but then, that's one of the joys of being a fanfic writer.  
  
P.S. I don't own Everworld.  
  
DAVID  
  
"Down!" I shouted over the roar of the battle beneath us. Following my command, the flying horse swooped towards the packs of fighting men and the far larger packs of fighting Hetwan. I lowered the scythe I had gotten from the gods. They claimed it was the Scythe of Cronos, whatever that meant. Fortunately, it was very light and very, very sharp. Flying low over the bug eyed heads of the Hetwan, the scythe cut deep into their alien flesh. Blackish green blood stained the metal and fell to the earth. I didn't need to shout the command "up"; the horse did it automatically.  
  
Once I was high up again, I quickly surveyed how the battle was going. The Hetwan still outnumbered us by far too much. Fortunately, I saw that their victims were a lot greater than ours. However terrifying the Hetwan god, Ka Anor, might be, a Hetwan was no match for a human in combat. Of course, when there were ten Hetwan for every human, the odds changed dramatically. I urged the horse farther upward to avoid the burning spears the Hetwan could shoot.  
  
The sight of blood spilled (Hetwan green and human red) didn't nauseate me from this vantage point; from here it was like watching ants fight. We were pulling back under the waves of Hetwan soldiers. If the Greek gods had fought in the battle alongside the human warriors, the battle would be taking a very different turn for the bugs. No time to be bitter now; I had a job to do.  
  
If the Hetwan pressed us back far enough, they would come within range of the archers I had positioned along Olympus. They knew this, of course, and would probably just besiege the mountain again. It was time for a little creative leading. I flew towards the volcano top of Olympus as fast as I could. The longer I stalled, the more soldiers died under the massive Hetwan army.  
  
I landed far from the magnificent palaces of the gods' home. Instead, I came to the entrance to the caverns of Hephestus, the smith god. Two Cyclopes guarded the entrance, but let me through when they saw that I was "General Davideus". It angered me for a moment that the two giants were here instead of helping us fight, but pushed it aside for later. The plan I was about to set in motion with Hephestus would either make or break the battle.  
  
The caverns were covered in ash. Not just a few inches of the stuff, like you might find in a fireplace. I'm talking ten feet of ash in the cleanest places. Cyclopes were everywhere, lifting coals the size of small hills into the furnaces. Fires blazed everywhere as mountains of metal were formed into weapons. I scanned over the forges, not an easy task with the smoke and the incredible swirls of heat. I found Hephestus at the far end of the cavern. I directed my flying horse, which seemed reluctant to proceed farther into the sweltering forges, straight to the smith god.  
  
"General Davideus!" said Hephestus loudly and happily. He had been smirking ever since I had shown him designs for a wheelchair, which came in handy when you were the only one of the gods with a permanent limp. "How goes the battle?"  
  
"Hephestus," I said after I coughed up a handful of smoke "we need to start plan Napalm."  
  
That was my codeword for a plan I had arranged with Hephestus. He was the only one of the gods who worked, so he was glad to help out, even though he wouldn't (and probably couldn't with that leg) fight. It was sort of a last ditch effort if it looked like the Hetwan were going to reestablish their siege on Mount Olympus. On my command, Hephestus would open several floodgates that would fill an underground canal with lava. After I had explained to him what a percent was, he said that there was a ninety-four percent chance that releasing the lava would cause hundreds, maybe even a thousand, Hetwans to be burned to death when the lava melted through the ground. This was what I hoped would happen. The other six percent was the chance that the lava would melt the ground too soon and consume our own armies almost completely. Because of this six percent, I hadn't done it before, but now it seemed like it was worth the risk.  
  
Hephestus's smile faded a little when I mentioned plan Napalm. "Are you sure, General?"  
  
"Yes," I said, gasping in the virtually oxygen free cavern "send out the lava."  
  
Hephestus raised a hand to his lips like a megaphone and yelled, loud enough to shake five feet of soot free all across the cavern, "CYCLOPES! OPEN THE GATES! SEND OUT THE FIREY ROCK! NOW!"  
  
The one-eyed giants obeyed and uncovered a giant vat of pulsing, orange rock. They began to pour it into a funnel leading out of the caverns. I didn't bother to watch them finish. I took off on my horse, leaving the forges behind.  
  
Soon I burst into the fresh air of Mount Olympus, and my horse and I breathed easier. "Next time you go down there," said the horse "leave me up here."  
  
I ignored the winged stallion, he seemed to be used to this, and took off for the battleground. The smell of blood, human and alien, hit me as soon as I was beyond the walls of Olympus. I alone knew that, at this very moment, lava was flowing under the earth the battle was being fought on. The Hetwans had advanced close to the mountain, but still out of range of arrows, and my soldiers were looking like they were about to faint on the spot. "I hope I'm not murdering them all right now," I said aloud.  
  
"I hope you're not murdering me right now," said the horse.  
  
I watched the battle below me play out. The Hetwans were inching closer and closer, pushing our men back as they went. And murdering them, too, I thought. I hope April, Christopher, and Jalil are still alive. I hope they're still alive after the plan starts. Hetwan forces approaching. People dying. No sign of the lava yet. We're almost besieged here. Suddenly, a piece of ground covered with Hetwan simply disappears and is replaced with glowing magma. The startled Hetwan around them are consumed as the lava flows freely out of the earth.  
  
"It's working," I hissed. Forget mass murder. Forget sneak attack. I loved watching those insects die. More ground was collapsing; more lava was flowing, and more Hetwan dying. "Yes!" I yelled in bloodlust, one of the most primitive of human emotions, which I didn't bother to suppress right then. "Die! Die! Hahaha!"  
  
Then, among the human soldiers, a spurt of lava appeared. The blood ran out of my face. If that crack in the ground widened, it would destroy my entire army. Lava was flowing, flowing . . .  
  
I breathed a small sigh of relief, as the crack among the human troops didn't widen. Soldiers were rushing away from the slow moving mass of rock, and I kept telling myself that those who had just died were casualties of war, an unavoidable occurrence. The Hetwan were trying to fly away from the molten rock, but, in the air, they were too slow to avoid the archers. The battle was turning against Ka Anor's slaves. I DID IT! I DID IT!  
  
No. The lava on our side was still flowing, and it was actually coming in a loop. It was joining with the lava flow that was devastating the Hetwan army. I watched in horror as the lava formed a small island where humans and Hetwans were trapped. Casualties of war, I told myself. It's unavoidable. There were easily three times as many Hetwan on the lava- surrounded island as there were humans. And I knew the mentality of warrior in the heat of battle; even if they were surrounded by magma, they would keep fighting.  
  
"Lower," I said to the horse, my voice shaky.  
  
Without giving off a flip remark, the horse brought me lower. We were approaching the lava island. Several Hetwans saw us and shot their burning spears. Fortunately, we were too far away for them to hit. But, if I were going to help my trapped warriors, I'd have to come in range of the Hetwan fighters. I didn't think I could lift them all to safety with one winged horse, but I couldn't not try to help some of them. Anything less would be the act of a coward. Then, I saw them.  
  
The warriors serving the Greek gods weren't exactly integrated: they were all Greek males, scarcely a minority, and not a single woman, among them. That was why two figures, fighting the Hetwan on the lava island, caught my eye. One was a tall, black man. The other was a red haired woman. These were no Greek soldiers: they were my friends, April and Jalil.  
  
JALIL  
  
The Hetwan's monstrous, insect head popped up in front of me like some nightmare visitor. I swung at it without considering the fact that I was murdering a living being; being in Everworld for too long could do that to you. I almost enjoyed seeing the head burst open under the force of my sword. Almost. The rational part of my brain, little more than a nagging whisper, in the heat of battle, knew that I was succumbing to brutal and primitive instincts, but I didn't care. The only things that mattered to me right then were: stay alive, and kill the Hetwan.  
  
Where the Hetwan's body fell, I rushed forward, hoping to kill some more. Taking a wild swing with my sword, encrusted with alien blood, I struck one of them. Unfortunately, I had made a bad swing. The Hetwan was too far away for me to strike a killing blow. I had simply managed to injure an arm. The alien turned to me, and I saw with horror that it had one of those burning spears in its mouth. Those things could fly very far and very fast, and they were acidic enough to burn through metal.  
  
I raised my shield to act as a guard against the Hetwan's strike, but it never came. When I pulled it down, the Hetwan was lying wounded (if not dead, and, with Everworld medicine, wounded was as good as dead). Standing there, with a spear in her right hand and a small shield on her left arm was April. Her usual beauty (I can remark without bias that her red hair, green eyes, and almost constant smile made her count as at least pretty) (if Christopher could hear this, he would chastise me for not including her breasts) was marred by blood (her own, her companions, and her enemies) as well as sweat, dirt, and a nasty cut above her left ear. However, a messy April who had just saved me from a Hetwan was more spectacular than on her best-groomed day in the real world.  
  
April quickly made a few Hetwan back away several feet when she swung her spear at them. She cast me a momentary look (I noted that her sympathetic eyes were now the mixture of calculation and fury that is always desired most in a warrior) and returned to smiting down the aliens. I understood: there is no time for conversation in battle.  
  
I advanced again on the Hetwan and slashed the chest of one while he was reloading his mouth with a spear. He was able to stagger out of range of another blow, so he would probably live to fight some more. Unlucky, but unimportant in the long run. Suddenly, a Hetwan spear caught me right above the knee. I was ready to buckle down in pain. That thing, which I had once seen eat through a stainless steel sword, was now in my leg, burning through my flesh to get to the bone.  
  
I automatically scraped away as much as I could of the burning solution with my shield, which started to dissolve around the edge. The Hetwan who had hit me, or maybe another one who had taken his place, was just fitting a spear into his mouth. He saw that I couldn't walk and would make an easy target. All right, I couldn't walk. My leg was temporarily unusable, and it might never work right again. But what about my arms? Yeah, they were just fine. Before the Hetwan could fire again, I flung my sword at him like it was a Frisbee. It sunk into his flesh, and he clearly forgot about firing at me. Crawling forward using my hands and my one good leg, I reached the Hetwan and forced the sword deeper into him until I heard the alien's spine snap.  
  
I pulled back then, and a Greek warrior took my place in the line where humans were clashing with the Hetwan. I nursed my injured leg, suddenly scared of the fact that it might leave a limp forever in real world, but, with Everworld's primitive version of hospitals, I could die of infection. Isn't a place that shouldn't exist but does great?  
  
I pulled myself backwards, away from the soldiers who were nearly trampling me as they ran to the battle lines to take the place of the fallen. As I went backward, I began to crawl up a hill. When I noticed my increase in elevation, I considered stopping in order to remain out of view of the Hetwan. But curiosity, as well as a tactical/survival urge, made me yearn to see the battle from an objective standpoint. I crawled backward, my right leg only increasing in agony as it bumped against rocks. At last, I reached an altitude high enough to see the layout of the battle.  
  
It was easy to tell that the Hetwan had pushed us backwards. Once you saw them climbing over human bodies, you knew we weren't as far as we had been. The Hetwan were a solid body of insect eyes, coming at the pitiful thousand humans guarding the base of the mountain. No matter how many we killed, there were thousands more to replace them. If the Hetwan laid siege to Mount Olympus again, the gods would almost certainly surrender to Ka Anor, naively thinking that an oath by the Hetwan god would assure their safety. Ka Anor ate gods, and the Hetwan had always said that their lives didn't matter because they served Ka Anor. No, it was kill the Hetwan, or they would kill the gods and enslave the humans.  
  
I couldn't catch sight of April again; she was shorter than the Greeks, which made it near impossible to spot. I didn't feel guilty about not joining in the battle again. My leg was on fire, for godssake. No, it was out of my control. I could watch the proceedings without guilt.  
  
Then, I saw it. It was orange in color, with streaks of black in it. It swelled out of the ground amid the Hetwan hordes. I couldn't hear the Hetwans' death screams as it consumed them; I didn't even no if Hetwans could express something as human as fear of death. But the lava had an effect I could witness quite well. Red-hot magma was coming out of the ground and burning the Hetwans alive. When it contacted their bodies, they let out billows of steam before disappearing into that fiery goo.  
  
David. This had to be David's doing. Sure, only the gods had the power to create such a disaster among the Hetwan troops, but they lacked the originality to do so. Come into Everworld with new-fangled, modern ideas, we had the originality to cause such an attack. And David, being our unspoken "general", was the only one who could persuade the gods to do something so unlike their usual patterns.  
  
I began to laugh as the enemy forces evaporated. I laughed and laughed and laughed. Until a horrible sound came from behind me. At least a dozen men broke out into screams of terror and pain. I turned around and saw that the lava was behind me now, eating through our own troops who hadn't made it to the front of the battle yet. Oh dear God, oh dear non- existent God, why have you messed up so bad?  
  
I waited for the lava to come my way; I had no chance of outrunning it on my wounded leg. But it didn't come. Instead, I saw it chase after more men, who were mostly able enough to run away from it. Of course, I should have realized it. I was on a hill; the lava would follow the path of least resistance. I was the least likely place for it to come. But, since it couldn't get to me, the magma did the next best thing. The lava that was destroying the Hetwans was coming in an arc that would soon meet with the lava behind me. They were forming a circle of molten rock around the Greek soldiers and me. We would be trapped along with a legion of Hetwan.  
  
I yelled something, trying to point out to the warriors that we were about to be on an island soon. None of them listened. Swords, spears, and arrows were still meeting with Hetwan flesh, and Hetwan burning spears were sinking into Greeks. Did they even notice the lava? Almost, almost, No! The circle of lava was complete. I saw it all from my position on the hill: magma behind me, magma in front of me, magma to my left, magma to my right. There was no way off this battle-consumed piece of earth. Worse still, there were way too many Hetwans trapped on the lava island with us. The Greek forces looked pathetic against the hordes of Hetwan here with us.  
  
I knew what David's plan must have been: release lava amid the Hetwans' ranks to cut down their larger numbers. It was a pretty good plan. The only hitch was that most of the humans on this lava island would die fighting the aliens, and, when the battle was done, the Hetwan could simply fly off. About five Hetwans rose into the air, trying to fly away from the lava right then. Greek archers took care of them, though. That seemed to discourage any other attempts to get away by flight. The Hetwan would continue to fight until us or them were dead. And, from the looks of things, it wasn't going to be them.  
  
APRIL  
  
Muscular, sweaty, and partially wounded men nearly crushed me in the press of our lines. With so many more Hetwan than humans, it would be easy for them to break through our lines if we didn't keep close. Still, I hate being crammed together like that. Especially when I'm the only woman among a thousand semi-civilized, Pagan, male warriors. A pretty large man was in front of me. His shoulders had to be at least three feet apart, and his armor expanded that by a couple inches on each side. From the sound of his hacking sword, I knew he was in direct combat with the Hetwan, which meant I wasn't far from them.  
  
The Greeks had given me a spear to use in the battle. They had given it out in order to please me; they didn't have high expectations from female warriors. And, to tell the truth, they may have had reason. Even in the twenty first century, old gender roles were still imprinted in me at an almost DNA level. I had grown up a confirmed pacifist and had never even considered the possibility that I would join a war. Well I had now, and I was horrified at the concept. If the man in front of me died, it would be my duty to fill his place and put my spear to use on the Hetwan. Please God; don't let this man die. If he does, I'll become as bad as those child-murderers in Vietnam.  
  
Maybe God, singular, doesn't exist in Everworld. I know He's supposed to be present everywhere, but that is in the real world. In Everworld there are different gods, and it could be that my God doesn't want anything to do with them. Of course, the Devil might still exist in Everworld. That could be why, the moment I prayed for that man to not die; he dropped, a Hetwan spear in his heart.  
  
The Hetwan was in front of me. Right in front of me! It felt like I noticed the spear in my hands for the first time. My hands felt around it clumsily; my mind suddenly unsure if I could even use it. None of the soldiers beside me attacked the Hetwan; they had aliens of their own to fight. No, it was a one on one scenario. He was loading another spear into his mouth as quickly as possible. Do it now! Now, while he can't attack! I stumbled forward, clumsily holding my spear out in front. That's all it was: me stumbling with a spear in my hands. To my surprise, I made a direct hit. The spear passed right through the Hetwan's head. Blackish green brains were hanging onto the tip.  
  
I pulled back in disgust, ripping my spear out of the corpse as I did so. I bumped into a Greek man behind me, nearly getting skewered on his sword. He pushed me; I think he was trying to push me out of the way so that a man could take the place at the front lines. But, with such cramped space, the only place I could be shoved was forwards. I was pushed right among the Hetwan!  
  
They had spears in their mouths, and they were only a few inches from me. I imagined one of those burning, acidic weapons sinking into me flesh as I swung the spear. I was still quivering in fear of the Hetwan, even as I knocked out two of them, and ripped off the head of another. I was waving my weapon wildly, striking the Hetwan again and again. I only gained some control when I was back between the warriors, and a crazy swing would probably hit my companions.  
  
The next hour or so was a blur. I remember Hetwan spears sailing past me, almost striking my skull. I have vague images of Hetwan guts spilling to the ground imprinted in my mind. Everything was so fast and so chaotic that I couldn't remember how many Hetwan I struck with my spear. It seems like more of a single, horrible moment, stretched out for ages. A moment of killing, of near misses, and of hate.  
  
I've never been an angry person. I've gotten angry, sure. Everyone except Jesus has at some point in their lives. But I was never one of those persons who go around hating everything around them. That's why I never drank or did pot; I didn't feel that I needed it to be happy. I was a generally all right person. But, since coming to Everworld, I guess a change has come over me. There was so much anger and hate in my mind as I was slaughtering the Hetwan that I felt like a volcano. Maybe it was being betrayed by Senna, maybe it was seeing Ka Anor eat Ganymede, or maybe it was the fact that I was in a place that, logically, shouldn't exist. Whatever it was, it saved my life that day. It was my hate that tapped into my most primal instincts, showing me the best ways to kill, kill, KILL!  
  
But I never lost control of my senses. I had seen a path where the flanks of Hetwan were thin enough that a soldier could break their way through. I knew that the moment I forged through the path the other soldiers would follow me. As the first to go, I would be facing the most Hetwan, and the greatest risk of being killed. I couldn't wait for somebody else to find it, though. I waited only long enough for most of the Hetwan to be busy reloading. Then I attacked.  
  
The first Hetwan, I slashed across the mouth with the spear tip. Not enough to kill, but the wound would prevent him from firing. In the blink of an eye, I was on the next one and had quickly shoved my spear into his chest and pulled it back out again. A Hetwan with a spear in its mouth! It fired, but I ducked. I thrust my own spear out as far as it could go and caught the alien in the heart (or some other vital organ, I don't know where Hetwans' hearts are located). A Hetwan reloading, and . . . stab! He went down easy. A burning spear scraped across the back of my neck. I wiped it off with my left hand (using a piece of my clothing, so that I wouldn't just burn my hand as well) while ramming my spear into the attacking bug.  
  
It was then that the Hetwan in that area got organized and attacked me en masse. There were five of them right in front of me, all with loaded spears. I could take out maybe one of them before they killed me. Well, I thought, if I'm going to die, I'm going to take one more Hetwan down with me. I swung my spear insanely at the nearest Hetwan. His guts burst out like I was hitting a garbage bag with a sledgehammer. A split-second before the other four Hetwan could kill me, the Greeks behind me finally arrived. I had cleared a path of Hetwan for them, and now they were repaying me. Two of the aliens fell from arrows, and a Greek with a sword and a Greek with an ax stormed the other two.  
  
I quickly spotted where the Hetwan were about to attack from next, and it was too far for me to rush to without being burned by their spears. Without thinking, I flung my spear at them like a javelin. A Hetwan's head exploded from the impact, sending brains everywhere. The Greeks turned, but not before the sword man was killed by Hetwan spears. The archers quickly destroyed the remaining Hetwan. I had lost my spear, but the fallen Greek had just provided me with a sword.  
  
Stealing from the dead might be wrong, but I'm sure he would have agreed that the situation required I use it. Now with a sword, I stormed a pair of Hetwan. I saw that they had apparently used up their supply of spears. I stabbed one in the chest, taking him down instantly. The other turned to run, but I brought my sword down on the top of his head. I nearly sliced him in half. Hetwan blood, guts, and brain spewed over me.  
  
God help me, I loved it. I loved the adrenaline high. I loved the violence. I was like some blood-crazed warlord. Those last two Hetwans hadn't even been armed; they hadn't had a chance to fight me, though they would have if they could. Greenish black blood was covering my body, and whole organs were sticking to my clothes. My flesh was tingling with excitement. I wanted to kill them so much. I didn't want the adrenaline to stop flowing through my veins.  
  
I saw a Hetwan with a spear. He fired, but I dodged. I ran at him with my sword. When I was only two feet from him, he was suddenly engulfed. Orange lava flowed over his body. The heat caused the moisture in his compound eyes to burst outward like a balloon that has been filled too full. In less than a second, the bug-eyed alien was totally obliterated by the magma. The heat was running through the air and met my flesh, causing me to jump back out of instinct.  
  
CHRISTOPHER  
  
I was hit soon after the Greek forces clashed with the Hetwans. It didn't seem like a real possibility, though, that a spear fired from some no name Hetwan could hit me. I mean, since coming to Everworld, it's been like I'm one of the main characters in a movie. If I die, it's got to be in some big, dramatic way. NOT being hit by a Hetwan spear a few moments after the battle starts.  
  
It hit me in my chest, passing right through my body and onto the ground. The burning liquid scorched my flesh, causing unbearable pain. I fell to the ground, clutching my wound in an attempt to make the throbbing pain stop. Soldiers ran over me as they went to get a piece of the Hetwans. They trampled over me like I wasn't even alive. Of course, I realized, a wound this serious was incurable using Everworld science. Wait, aren't we running over some kid? Don't worry about it. He's wounded, he's as good as dead anyway. Ok, say wouldn't he make a great doormat?  
  
Greek warriors around me fell, burning spears lodged in them. I let out a moan in fiery agony. I was going to die. Oh God, I was going to die! This was it. I'd never have a chance to own a house. Never get a girl to let me do all the things to her that I wanted to do. Everything I ever enjoyed would be gone. All hope for my future? Gone. Every happy memory I had? Gone. I was dying. I was going to die.  
  
Pain, pain, pain, pain! I screamed like some chick in a cheap horror movie. But I wasn't afraid of some killer getting me. The killer already got me. I was screaming in utter pain. I needed painkillers! I needed a doctor! I needed my mommy! Somebody help me! I'm dying! Why are you bothering with the battle? Fighting the Hetwan doesn't matter anymore! I'm hit! I'm dying! Drop everything else and MAKE THE PAIN GO AWAY!  
  
I felt something grab my arm and lift me up. I was nearly unconscious from screaming so hard. I thought, in my pain-induced stupor, that an angel was picking me up to bring me to heaven. Or just carrying me far enough so that I would have a clear drop into hell. The latter was more likely. But, no, when you died the pain was supposed to go away. At least, until you were prodded by pitchforks. But my wound was still sending as many waves of pain up my spine and into my brain as ever. No, somebody in the real world (well, all right, Everworld) was picking me up.  
  
I had clenched my eyes tight before. Get rid of one sense and the others become weaker, including pain. Now I opened them. I saw an image that made me think that an angel really had come for me. I was seeing white feathers and I felt myself being lifted into the air. But it wasn't an angel. I knew the face well. It was David.  
  
DAVID  
  
I had to do something. I could see the Greek warriors falling under the barrage of Hetwan spears. The lava island was the only place where the battle was still going on. Magma spurting out of the ground will do that to a conflict. I knew for a fact that April and Jalil were down there. April was at the front lines between humans and Hetwans, knocking one of the aliens down every few seconds. Jalil wasn't fighting, his leg looked hurt, but he didn't seem to be dying. The Hetwan couldn't fly away without being shot down by archers, so they stayed on the ground and murdered my troops.  
  
Then I remembered April and Jalil. They reminded me that my troops on that island weren't just troops, they were human beings. I couldn't let the Hetwans massacre the humans on that island. I had to protect my friends. But how? The lava had been my big plan, the one I had set up. I didn't have a strategy for getting my soldiers off an island surrounded by lava. Priorities, I thought to myself. Maybe you can turn this to your advantage. The Hetwan can't get away; this could be a great opportunity to kill a bunch of them. But they outnumber us. True, but it is easier for a human to kill a Hetwan than it is for a Hetwan to kill a human. Still, there are so many of them.  
  
I kept my eyes fixed on April and Jalil. Jalil was out of the combat, so he would probably be safe unless the Greek forces on the island were overrun. As for April . . . She was incredible. She had just killed two Hetwan with one sword blow. She dodged the Hetwan burning spears with the ease of a cat. And that was with a plain, old, rusty sword. What would she do if she had a more powerful weapon? Like, say, the Scythe of Cronos. It would be risky giving it to her; I'd have to come within range of the Hetwans' spears, and, being the only object in the sky, would make an easy target. Still, in war risks had to be taken.  
  
"Down," I whispered to the horse.  
  
"You're insane," it said back, but it still obeyed my command.  
  
I was swooping towards the lava island on top of a horse related to Pegasus. I kept my eyes alternately on the Hetwan and on April. I saw the Hetwan spot me, and they began to fire their spears. The horse was more experienced in situations like this than I was; it dodged the spears and proceeded towards April at a tremendous pace. More burning spears, missing me by inches. Quickly as we could, we landed among the Greek warriors. They parted to make room, recognizing me as General Davideus, and the horse as one of the gods' pets. Jumping off of the flying animal (the closer I was to the ground, the harder it would be for the Hetwan to get me) I rushed towards where I had last seen April.  
  
When I found her, she was skewering a Hetwan's chest with her sword. An alien nearby tried to return the favor with its spear, but she ducked and slashed it across the throat. "APRIL!" I called.  
  
She didn't turn around, which would have made her guard on the Hetwan lapse. Instead, she quickly backed up while dodging another two spears. Soon, she was beside me, and three soldiers had taken her place in front. Really, only a few pieces of her red hair could be used to identify her. The rest of her hair and her body were covered in a black/green ooze that I knew to be Hetwan blood. Strange, alien organs were plastered onto her clothes. A quarter of a Hetwan's compound eye was resting on her right shoulder. She was a horrible mess. She probably smelled, too, but the whole battleground stank of spilled blood anyway.  
  
She turned towards me, her green eyes blazing with battle fury. I had seen that look before. I had seen it on the Greeks' faces. I had seen it frequently among the Vikings and the Aztecs. I had seen it on Christopher's face, Jalil's face, and they probably saw it on my face, too. But April had always been the pacifist in our group. She was the one who had grown up in a Christian family. She was the one who was most disgusted by the war hunger in Everworld. This look was foreign to her face, and it scared me a little that she could be changed so much.  
  
"April," I said, not sure if I was even talking to the real April.  
  
She grunted in response. "Take this," I said, holding out the scythe the gods had given me.  
  
She took it and looked over it curiously. She then asked the one question that seemed to matter to her, "What will you kill with?"  
  
I would have preferred she had said, "What will you fight with?" It sounded less criminal. In response, I pulled a sword out of its sheath. It had been Galahad's sword, and now it was mine. I didn't need to say anything more; April understood. One of the Greek soldiers fell, a Hetwan spear in his skull. April jumped to the spot where he had been and promptly sliced two Hetwans in half with the scythe. I backed away from the front lines; I needed to find Jalil.  
  
I remembered that he was sitting on top of a hill, nursing his leg. I searched for a rise in the ground as the Greek warriors parted to make room for the General. I passed over dead bodies (human and Hetwan) as I searched for Jalil. At one point I stepped right on top of a Hetwan's compound eye. Half my leg became drenched in disgusting Hetwan blood. In the real world, I might have vomited if this happened to me. In Everworld, I ignored it and pressed onward. After some diligent searching, I found the hill. I rushed up it and found Jalil.  
  
He was wearing battle armor too large to fit his thin frame, and a sword and shield lay at his side. He noticed my approach without surprise and gave a slight nod as a welcome. His right hand was gripping his leg. I saw blood oozing out between his fingers. It looked like it had been bleeding for a long while. I bent down to look at the wounded leg. "Jalil, I need to see this," I said.  
  
"You're the closest thing to a good doctor in Everworld," he said, affirming what I had said, "At least you know that you don't go smearing diseased fabric over a wound. Have a look."  
  
He took his hand away and a wince of pain crossed his face. It was an ugly wound. Plenty of blood, and some white goo were coming out of it. I could see bone fragments, melted muscle tissue, and, if there weren't so much blood in the way, I think I could have seen the hole looking out the other side. Hetwan venom could cut through steel like it was butter; flesh would be like cutting fog.  
  
Jalil clamped his hand back on the wound and took a deep, long breath. "Jalil," I said "we need to get you back to Olympus. It's more sanitary up there than anywhere else in Everworld. Maybe the gods will even be able to heal it."  
  
He gave a bitter laugh. "I don't doubt they could," he said "but just helping somebody like that isn't their style. Plus-"  
  
"Plus what?" I asked, wondering if the flying horse could carry Jalil and me.  
  
"Well," he didn't seem willing to tell me "I've been here for a while, and I've been looking around. Well, Christopher is on this island."  
  
"He is?" I asked.  
  
"He's behind me. He's unconscious, at best. He could be dead."  
  
I knew why Jalil didn't want to tell me about this. He always looked out for himself. He didn't want to be left without help while I helped Christopher. It was a pretty selfish thing to do; Christopher could be dying! Then, he had told me. There had to be some way to help them both. Maybe the flying horse could carry both of them. After all, it could already fly and talk; who's to say it couldn't carry three teenaged boys.  
  
"Wait right here Jalil," I said, "I need to get the horse. I think it can carry you, Christopher, and me."  
  
"I can tell you that an average horse would be worn out by carrying the three of us," said Jalil, "But, then, W.T.E."  
  
Welcome to Everworld. It summed up everything that couldn't be explained in this universe. I gave him a reassuring grin before running back to where I had left the flying horse. Its white coat and feathers made it easy for me to spot, but that also meant it would be easy for a Hetwan to spot. The risk of being shot down by a venom spear while riding the horse would be great, but not much worse than many other horrible odds I'd faced in Everworld.  
  
CHRISTOPHER  
  
I forced my eyes to stay open. David was picking me up on a flying horse. There was a wisecrack forming in my mind, but the pain was too severe for me to utter it. Instead I observed and tried to figure out what was going on. With a lot of lifting and puffing, I was tossed on top of the horse. I let out a ninny like scream as the gaping hole in my chest was aggravated. For another thirty seconds I screamed and tried to force my mind to forget the pain.  
  
When I calmed down a little, I heard a remark: "Well, he must be alive."  
  
It wasn't David who said it. I recognized the voice as belonging to Jalil. I turned my head, cautiously, so that I wouldn't put pressure on my wound by moving. Jalil was sitting behind me on the horse, all right. It looked like his leg had been wounded, but not too bad for him to be sitting and talking. Lousy bastard.  
  
We were rising above the battlefield, away from the Greek soldiers. I turned my head so that it hung limply over the side of the horse. I watched the warriors pressing off to fight the battle. Funny, one of them was green. Now more of them. Maybe I'm hallucinating, I thought. Doesn't that happen right before you pass out from a battle injury? Yeah, but I had the sickening feeling this wasn't a pain induced illusion. We were about fifty feet up, which was close enough to the ground for me to identify the little green soldiers: Hetwan.  
  
Enormous, bulging, compound eyes. Vast wings curled up behind their bodies. Acidic spears shooting out of their mouths. I think I was even able to make out the three mandibles around the Hetwan mouths that were constantly feeding it food that didn't exist. Oh dear God, they were right under us!  
  
They seemed to realize that concept, too. Several Hetwans turned their heads upward and fired their spears. One came within half a foot of burning through my face. "What the Hell?" I heard David exclaim.  
  
"Hetwans," Jalil half-whispered. When situations turn bad, Jalil doesn't panic, he grows very, very quiet.  
  
More of them now, firing up at us. The horse tried to dodge, but the upside-down rain of burning spears was very thick. Statistically, it would be hit within the next few-  
  
Now. The horse let out a wild neigh that turned into an all too human scream of pain. I saw, in horror, that a spear had hit the horse's left wing. With that injured, we were sinking fast towards the hordes of aliens beneath us. I had been rescued only to be captured by the enemy!  
  
The horse tried to maneuver through the air with only one wing, trying to fly away from the Hetwans as it sank downward. This didn't work, though. The Hetwans fired their spears upward in such a way that the horse could barely turn in any direction without being burned again. It sank downward, trying hopelessly to stay aloft on only one hyper wing. I knew it was no good. We were close to the Hetwan now. They were only twenty feet below. They could easily have hit David, Jalil, and me from that distance, but they let us sink towards them. Maybe they wanted to interrogate us. I had seen how horrible Ka Anor dealt with gods; the Hetwan would probably be no less cruel to humans they captured.  
  
I closed my eyes and silently prayed. I didn't pray to any god, just praying to any being that could hear me. I prepared to die. But then, I heard a scream. It sounded familiar, like the sound Xena makes in battle. Maybe I was right all along; maybe life does emulate TV, and now Xena was going to save us. I opened my eyes and looked down. We were only fifteen feet up, now, but the Hetwan weren't concerned with us anymore. They were focused on a bunch of Greek warriors being led by a surprisingly slender human who was cutting Hetwan down two by two. As she brought the scythe she carried down on a Hetwan's head, I recognized her.  
  
April.  
  
APRIL  
  
I would have deeply thanked David for the scythe if I hadn't been so busy. It was a glorious weapon. It weighed virtually nothing, yet was sharp enough and strong enough to cleave through several Hetwan at once. I swung it through the air, again and again. I couldn't even see it move. With each swing, another Hetwan died. Heads were chopped off, guts cut out, throats ripped apart. I was like some goddess of destruction. No Hetwan could hit me, and none could come within five feet of me and live. I was so happy I half-laughed/half-screamed as I killed the aliens.  
  
They were pulling away. Go ahead and run, you insects, I thought, your exterminator has come. Then, I noticed they were congregating to my left. The Greeks didn't seem to notice this trend, they were happy to be pursuing the Hetwan for a change. But I recognized how dangerous this could be. They could break our ranks; they could come at us from all sides. I knew that if they did that, we would lose.  
  
I yelled at a pack of Greeks chasing after the retreating Hetwan. "Stop you chowder brained morons!"  
  
No one listened. I raised my voice and added a few words I don't normally use. "YOU LOUSY WHORE-SON BASTARDS! STOP AND LISTEN TO ME RIGHT NOW OR I'LL RIP OUT YOUR DICKS MYSELF!"  
  
I've changed since coming to Everworld. In the real world I never talked like that, and I didn't have the authority to pull it off, either. But in this world of insane gods, my loud, cursing voice made several warriors stop in their tracks. They looked back at me, perplexed. I needed to yell again to get their attention.  
  
"LISTEN YOU SONS OF BITCHES! THE HETWAN ARE CONCENTRATING THEIR FORCES! THEY'RE GOING TO ATTACK IN ONE PLACE AND BREAK OUR LINES OF DEFENSE! NOW, GIVE ME A GOD-DAMNED HAND STOPPING THEM, OR I'LL KICK YOUR ASSES TILL YOU'LL NEVER BE ABLE TO SIT DOWN AGAIN!"  
  
This got attention. Without bothering to check if the Greeks would follow me, I ran between soldiers for the area where the Hetwan were focusing their might. I had to get there. I couldn't let the Hetwan break our lines. That would be the end of us if they did. No, I had to stop them. Had to stop them!  
  
I was too late. I saw warriors dying as the Hetwan burst past them, firing their venom spears. I saw the aliens marching inward. I saw them breaking through a wall of soldiers. Too late! Too late! They were advancing through the lines of soldiers, a solid wall of Hetwan. They fired their burning spears at every human in their path. Bodies piled up where they pushed in. I hadn't stopped them! They were going to burst through or ranks and use confusion to defeat us.  
  
I'll die a horrible death before I let that happen, a deranged voice inside my head yelled. No, a saner part of me said, find a way off this island; you can't win against them now. There's got to be a way! There isn't one. Shut up you sissy, little prick!  
  
The argument ended when I saw the horse. A horse in the sky. It had to be David. I pushed through the soldiers, not easy to do when there is pandemonium. The Hetwan assault had sent the soldiers into chaos, like I had predicted. Still, got to fight. I tried to get close to the horse without stepping into the Hetwan fighting force. I could see the people on the horse now: David, Christopher, and Jalil. I saw the Hetwan fire their spears at the horse. I saw it get hit.  
  
They were falling! My friends were falling towards a pack of bloodthirsty Hetwan! I had to save them! I couldn't just let them be murdered! But how? It was then that a Greek warrior bumped into me. I turned around out of instinct. I then saw that he was only one of many Greeks who were standing attentively behind me. They had followed. When I looked at them, they stood still, weapons ready if I asked it of them. Perhaps I had been correct in describing myself earlier: a goddess. A goddess of destruction, granted, but still a goddess. These soldiers were following me. They had seen me kill the Hetwan. They were ready to be led.  
  
"All right!" I yelled to them "We're going to rescue the flying horse and those upon it. Those are my friends. Save them!"  
  
Adrenaline flowed through my veins. My skin tingled in excitement. I rushed towards my friends and the Hetwan with newfound energy. I pushed aside panicking Greeks, and those following me did likewise. I raised my scythe into the air, and my soldiers again imitated me. Almost there, almost there. Now!  
  
I had reached the Hetwan. I let out a battle scream and let my scythe fly. It cut through three Hetwan in that one blow. I raised it again and brought it down in less than the blink of an eye. Two more Hetwan dead. I screamed again and again in bloodlust as I chopped the aliens to pieces. I wasn't alone. Arrows flew through the air, sticking the Hetwan through the chest. Greeks with spears, axes, and swords plowed through the bug-eyed aliens. The Hetwan had used panic to push through our forces, and I was using panic to revenge myself. They fired back, their venom killing many Greeks, but at least four Hetwan fell for every human that did.  
  
My friends were nearing the ground, and I was still too far away to help them. I let my scythe fly once more and beheaded two Hetwan, pushed forward, and repeated my swing. I was inching along; there were so many Hetwan to cut through. My soldiers were falling behind; if I wasn't careful, Hetwan would surround me, and that would spell my doom. Trying not to be too anxious, I let the Hetwan advance before cutting them down. My troops caught up, and then I pressed forward again.  
  
The horse was only a couple feet above the heads of the Hetwan. Forget being careful; they needed my help! I plunged forward, screaming and waving my scythe like a maniac. Hetwan bodies plopped beside me as I progressed. I was only twenty feet from my friends. Only ten feet.  
  
Ah! A Hetwan spear in my leg! I spun in a complete circle. My scythe cut down all the Hetwan near me. I spun again and again. They dropped like flies. I moved forward, though it was more a limp on my venom-wounded leg. I would have been in terrible pain if there weren't so much energy in my body. The flying horse finally dropped amid the Hetwan when I was only five feet from it. I saw the terrified looks on David, Jalil, and Christopher's faces as this happened.  
  
"No!" I yelled, and leapt forward on my one good leg.  
  
I tackled down several Hetwan like I was a wrestler. A venom spear almost hit my spine, but I rolled aside to dodge it. I swung my spear around and around as I pulled myself up. Burning spears exploded as they contacted the blade, which strangely resisted the dissolving power they had. I crawled forward another two feet, all the while defending myself with the scythe.  
  
They were right there. My friends. David, our leader. Jalil, our logician. Christopher, our comedian. Slumped there on the ground, afraid of being burned by the next Hetwan they saw, they looked far from their roles. Hetwans with spears! Slash! They no longer existed. I crawled beside the flying horse, whose wing was horribly burned. I swung my spear around, defending us all.  
  
It wasn't enough. The Hetwan had managed to cut me off from the Greeks, who I could still hear chopping at the aliens. They had seen me kill so many of their people. They were firing their burning spears at me from all sides. The horse took several more blows, but me and my friends were safe as long as the scythe kept meeting the spears in mid air. But, sooner or later, a spear would make it through. The Hetwan were going to murder all four of us right there.  
  
Suddenly, ducking beneath my scythe, David ran towards the Hetwan, Galahad's sword in hand. A Hetwan preparing to fire at us was slashed through the neck. Now the Hetwans had two of us to fight. I saw that Jalil had his own sword, which he could defend himself and Christopher with if the Hetwan got too close. Jalil gave me a nod: yes, I could go ahead with my plan.  
  
I jumped upward, my mind refusing to acknowledge the fact that one of my legs shouldn't be able to do that action. I swung at the Hetwan and took down two of them. I brought my scythe around again and chopped off one's head, while jabbing the other in the side. I dodged burning spears and simply devastated a Hetwan's chest. David was doing about the same. We still could only hold out for so long while surrounded by so many aliens. We needed help.  
  
CHRISTOPHER  
  
So many Hetwans. They were firing their acidic spears at us from all sides. April and David were fighting them, while Jalil waved his own sword in order to keep the aliens back. We were both wounded and couldn't actually fight. At least Jalil could still wave a sword in self-defense. I could barely move. A Hetwan spear burned a hole in the ground right beside by face. They were going to hit me. I saw them. Hetwans with spears in their mouths. They were too far away for David or April to kill. They were facing us. They were going to fire and kill us!  
  
Then, they simply dropped. Blades and arrows stuck out of their backs. It was like some grace from heaven that the Greeks had broken through the Hetwan lines. Yes! In more places, Hetwan had to turn their attention from us and David and April to the attacking Greeks. We might survive!  
  
I saw David pull back and collapse beside us. A little bit of venom had gotten on his chest. Nothing like what I was suffering, but still bad. Enough Greeks had come to us that his presence in the battle was no longer crucial. In time, April pulled back as well. She had a Hetwan spear burn in her left arm. Still, she was gritting her teeth and baring it. We were all together, sitting beside the corpse of a flying horse (Hetwan spears that missed us had hit this bigger target).  
  
The Greeks were all around us now, like a bodyguard. We just lay there, not saying a word. We had nearly been massacred; we needed a rest. We were going to survive. From the looks of the Greeks, they were defeating the Hetwan. We might survive this hell some people called a battle. Yes! I was going to live!  
  
I saw it. I saw it before any one else did. It was a Hetwan in the air, flying. I guess the Greek archers were so focused on the ground based Hetwan that they didn't see it. It had a loaded spear in its mouth and was aiming it down at us. It wasn't far away. It could have its pick of who it wanted to kill. None of the others were looking up; they were intently watching the battle for any sign of the Hetwan breaking back through the line of Greek defense.  
  
I should have said something! It should have been so simple. I should have told my friends right then that there was a Hetwan above us preparing to kill. But my side! I hurt too much. I tried to speak, but all that came out was blood filled drool. The Hetwan was looking over us, deciding on who would meet with the burning spear. It reached a decision and fired.  
  
He hit Jalil. I saw the Hetwan spear hit the top of his head and pass right through. Only then was I able to scream. I was only able to warn them when it was too late. I saw April and David react with shock. April tossed her scythe into the air. It was a perfect shot and brought the Hetwan down easily. But it was too late. Jalil had fallen to the ground, a large hole passing through his head. Blood and bits of brain were oozing out onto the ground.  
  
Not Jalil! He can't die! None of us are supposed to die!  
  
But he did die. Jalil's ghost would have told me to think logically. After all, I am obviously dead. A burning Hetwan spear passed through my brain. I am dead.  
  
No! I won't believe it! You aren't supposed to die! We're a group! We stay together! If you can die, that means David could die next. Or April. Or me.  
  
Yes, Christopher, any of you can die.  
  
David took Jalil's pulse and found nothing. Checked his breathing and found nothing. Heartbeat, nothing. He wouldn't believe it either. Jalil couldn't be dead. He tried mouth to mouth, but we all knew it wouldn't work. I gave up the fight to stay conscious. I let the fatigue of my wound free access to my brain. I wanted to black out and not see Jalil's corpse anymore. Not hear David trying hopelessly to revive Jalil. Not hear April moaning to herself. I let my mind black out. Not Jalil. Not Jalil. He can't die. He can't-  
  
JALIL SHERMAN: Scientist, Atheist, and Friend. He fought the Hetwan with us. He was always there with us since we were thrust into Everworld. He meant more to us than he ever suspected. Rest in Peace, Jalil. 


End file.
